Meetings Between Tom and Harry
by RanOutOfBatteries
Summary: A short prompt I did on Tom and Harry becoming friends, and a small interaction between them in their first year.


god damn it here we go again

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**Chapter 1: Dominion**

"Harry," he could hear someone call from a distance. He was too tired to deal with anyone's shit at the moment.

All he wanted was food.

"Yeah, yeah," he replied, waving a hand in their general direction. "After food. Later. Hungry."

"Do you speak like an animal now?" Tom scoffed as he took in the other's form. Harry's eyes were locked onto the doors to the dining hall, completely ignoring the boy next to him. "Full sentences are something you should be capable of as of now. You know, ignoring someone as they're speaking to you is quite rude, and so is avoiding-"

"Augh, shut up," Harry said, scrunching his eyes up in a particularly ill-mannered gesture. "Merlin, wait until after dinner for a conversation. I'm going to fall over and die."

Tom took in his beleaguered expression, his ruffled appearance as he huddled into himself as if he truly were dying of starvation. His lips curled upwards in a twitch of a smile before it was gone again. "Well, then, don't let me stop you."

Harry took off like a bullet, weaving through the crowd of students with ease. They seemed flabbergasted by the dark blur that went by as he seated himself beside a rather terrified Hufflepuff, eating as if his life depended on it. Tom blinked, then turned around and pretended that he hadn't seen a thing.

He placed down his silver utensils and sighed, waiting for Harry to return.

He should probably return to the beginning, where he had first met this stupid yet mindblowing specimen and humanity's greatest offer to the world. Tom had basically found Harry somewhere in a ditch on the way to the train station. He had escaped the kind 'escort' of Dumbledore, ready to watch the other wizards enter through the wards using nothing more than a sidestep while nobody was watching.

He had not trusted the elderly man with the long white beard. He was kind, yes, but Tom never trusted kind people. They lulled others into a false sense of security, then pulled the rug from underneath them when they weren't looking. It was devious, and it worked well.

Those eyes seemed to look right through him as well.

However, it was quite the surprise when he found the boy - Harry - lying prone and facing the opposite direction with slightly tilted glasses and a wild mop of hair that seemed to suit his whole appearance and attire. The androgynous face made Tom falter.

"Hello!" The boy waved cheerfully, completely ignoring how he was staring up at Tom in the wrong direction. "Pleasure to meet you!"

Parts of his hair moved, revealing hints of a lightning bolt scar on the left side of his forehead. Tom's eyes caught it before darting back to the kid's glasses. Neither of them made a move until Harry picked himself up and dusted off his clothing, brushing the dry, withered leaves from his oversized sweater. A few pieces of leaf broke off and remained stuck on his clothing, so Harry grumbled as he began to pick them out meticulously. His tie stuck out halfway, unpressed and half-loose.

He looked as if he'd just rolled out of bed - or in this case, that disgusting ditch.

"Tom," he retorted, unsure why he was even talking to this child in the first place. He had a train to catch. "You...as well."

"The train will leave in about seven minutes and 43 seconds," Harry told him, and Tom's glare sharpened as he snapped back to attention. Harry's eyes seemed to grow absentminded again, but Tom was sure that for a second there, something sharp had appeared, ready and calculating. "You should probably head over, the seats do fill up pretty quickly."

Tom nodded, almost disbelievingly, as Harry began making his way to the train, where many other students were boarding their luggage and school materials. An owl kept in a cage hooted at Tom, blinking wide yellow eyes as it combed through its feathers with a pristinely curved beak.

Tom felt the scales underneath his fingers. The garden snake hissed, coming out from under one of his thin white sleeves as it curled up on his lap. The rules did say to bring one pet of their choosing, but Tom did not care much for the rules so long as he did not get caught. The pet store sold wilder, more dangerous looking beasts, and that was also how he found Nagini, with golden eyes and a quick, startlingly intent stare.

"Snakes, I see," Harry said as he sat down in an empty space, sliding door moving slowly back. Tom could've moved to the next compartment, which was still surprisingly kept empty, but for some reason he chose to sit down anyway on the opposite seat, looking through the window dully.

"Yes," Tom said, reflection looking back at him as the surface of the glass rattled.

The train was about to start moving. He chose to say nothing else.

"There is nothing more that Hogwarts can offer you," Harry told him, and there came that flicker again. Tom paid close attention, watching him with the gaze of a hawk.

"What?"

"You are completely capable of doing things yourself, everyone knows that, but why waste time doing all the things you despise the most?"

"I don't understand."

And then Harry was back, grinning with ignorance, kicking his feet slightly back and forth against the leather front of the seat. "Are there chocolate frogs on this train? I've missed those."

Tom had no words.

Returning to the present, Harry of the current time seemed not to have changed even remotely. Not one bit. "This world is a figment of someone else's imagination," Harry said matter-of-factly through a mouthful of biscuit. "It's best not to think about anything at all, Tom. It's for the best."

"Of course, Harry," Tom replied drolly, rolling his eyes when Harry wasn't looking.

Tom couldn't really pick meaning out of the bullshit he spouted, but there were times that he believed Harry knew much more than he let on. Dumbledore adored him, and so did the Hufflepuff side of the school, so why the hell did this guy ever end up in Slytherin with him?

He didn't even end up sitting at the table with him, taking Hufflepuff as his new seating area. The prefect had tried to direct Harry back to his own group at once, but eventually he became fond of the first-year, who seemed constantly starved and unintrusive of others. The only attitude Harry spouted was when he was irritable and hungry, so no one stopped him there.

He was still so small.

"I'll grow eventually," Harry protested, but Tom had a hard time believing that. They had both ended up malnourished as children, but Tom had crossed over even that hurdle and grew taller, but Harry remained thin and wiry, yet fast and extremely agile.

"Why are you even in Hogwarts," Tom groaned, feeling a headache coming on. Harry had abysmal grades in practically everything, simply because the kid didn't care.

In truth, Tom envied Harry's happy-go-lucky mood. It made him more of a people person, drawing jokes and banter that made Tom almost want to join in. The most surprising thing of all was that although Harry never even touched his books and never participated in class, he always aced the tests.

"What can I say? I'm a better listener," Harry shrugged.

"There was homework," Tom hissed. "We went over it briefly, and we haven't even touched upon the more difficult subjects."

"I...study in private?"

The worst part of all was that Harry was, by far, the greatest dueler in Defense Against the Dark Arts. His stunning spells were powerful and knocked back even the teacher's wards, shocking most of the students and professor Dumbledore himself. "My, my, what a diamond in the rough we have here," the wizard chuckled, but Tom couldn't understand why nobody seemed afraid.

"How did you get so strong?" A girl asked eagerly. Harry messed up the hair on the nape of his neck, frowned, and said something dumb.

"I fought Death and won."

Fortunately, most people believed that he was joking and that Harry had actually been through some traumatizing experience, which drew a lot of pity as the rumors circulated. Some claimed that Harry was an orphan and his caretaker abandoned him. Others said that he lived in an abusive household where he was locked in a cupboard and had hand-me-downs from his fat older cousin named Dudley.

(Harry didn't know how they knew that last part since he had never shared that part of his history, but he decided not to question it.)

"Skip school with me, come on," Harry chirped, and Tom chose this moment to throw a shoe at his face. Harry ducked, avoiding it, but levitated said apparel back over for Tom to put back on.

"I have _standards."_

"Oh? Like what?"

"Staying in school. Maintaining grades."

"Sounds boring, let's go shoplift at a very expensive antique jewelry store with a large number of eyewitnesses!"

Tom wanted to hit his head on the desk in front of him. He did exactly that and refused to move. "Why are you like this."

But when the war hit, Harry was the first person Tom had turned to.

The orphanage was gone, blasted away with the rest of the buildings surrounding it. Only rubble remained, smoke and ashes that burned his eyes and made his mouth feel harsh, dry. He had no sentiment for the people who had housed him, but as Harry stood next to him looking up at the grey clouds above Tom felt a hint of something cold and wet hit his skin.

"I know where we can go," Harry said as rain began pouring in rivulets down both of their clothes, jackets repelling the drops like oil on water, and Tom decided on one thing.

He had no idea why he had ever sat down next to Harry in that train compartment, but if he ever had the chance to turn back time, Tom would most definitely do the same exact thing.

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this was a small thing, I really like writing these so here you go!

Thanks for reading!


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